


You, I and My Right Hand

by FelineJaye



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Fingering, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - F/M/Other, i dunno what do you call it when three people but only two bodies are having sex??, or it has only the barest of plot anyway, threesome via possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 10:10:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6606922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelineJaye/pseuds/FelineJaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasha likes it better when he uses his robotic fingers. Rhys can't bring himself to tell her it's not him moving them.</p><p>Rated non-con because; for her it's via ommission of knowledge, for him it's via possession and coercion. It's tagged with dub-con for similar reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You, I and My Right Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I almost called this fic "You, I and the Guy That Lives in My Right Hand".
> 
> I hope you have as much fun reading this porn as I had writing it.

Being cramped in the caravan makes it difficult to find private time. But they manage - Sasha's a persistent woman, after all. The first time, Rhys was caught completely off-guard. Not exactly a hard thing to manage, with Rhys, but it was still a shockingly subtle plan. She said they should go for a walk, that were they'd stopped was known for it's diurnal animals so they wouldn't be in too much danger from Pandora's wildlife.

He happily followed her out, assuming they were out scouting or, just maybe, they were having a nice romantic walk. He tended to stumble over romance but she could coax truly sweet moments out of him. Especially now that they weren't just flirting and were actually pursuing... something. And then Sasha had pulled him onto some disturbingly soft mossy ground behind a bolder and had kissed him way too passionately while stressing the buttons on his shirt.

So, mostly through Sasha's ingenious and Rhys' unsubtle opportunism, they manage to find times where they can feel every inch of each other and enjoy something physical together. Sasha tends to call the shots, because it's in her nature and because Rhys is walking blind in this situation. So very often, their playful tumbles result in his hands slipped down her front, her zip undone and her pants pushed down around her midthighs, giving him enough room to flex his hand but also making sure she isn't left too exposed.

At first, he made sure to use his left hand when he does this. It was a happy accident the first time he invitingly trailed his hand down to the fly of her pants as he'd been leaning over her on his stronger robotic prosthetic. But he makes a concious effort, after that, to use his biological hand.

Sasha seemed to like it, which was what mattered. She liked his nimble digits - so soft from his desk life, softer than the palms of any native Pandorian - stroking and pressing and softly rubbing her. She liked laying back as his fingers took their delicate time almost patting her clit, pulling her hood back down when she twitches with the beginnings of displeasure and then pushing it up out of the way again after her nerve endings have had time to calm down. His fingers trailing between the folds of her labia, dipping inside of her just a touch, just to help spread the wetness that trickles from her aroused pussy. The way he twiddled his fingers like they had all the time in the world, like they could spend hours hidden in some nook of Pandora, him setting more and more of her nerves alight only to stop and let them calm before pushing her back to that feeling all over again.

She had made a surprised noise, one time, and when he'd enquired she'd said she was surprised at how little time had passed. That she thought he'd been spending hours and hours bringing her to the edge of orgasm and back down again. But how in reality he hadn't spent much time at all.

Sasha had told him that she loved how slow he was, how tentative, how he was kind and gentle like Pandorians are raised to not be. She tells him she's surprised some hardcore Hyperion business man knows what compassion is, not matter how to be sexually compassionate.

In the end, all those words just make it that much more painful after her slips up for the first time and uses his robot hand to finger her.

They were just outside the caravan and Sasha had pressed up against him, pushed him back into the wall of the vehicle. He'd nervously indicated the two bots on the roof and she'd just pressed a finger to his lips before replacing her digit with her lips. She'd deftly undone his belt and pulled open his pants before shoving her hand down the front of his underwear. Her hands were calloused and the tips were a coarse texture, but she knew by now not to rub too much directly on his head, pushing his foreskin up to give the more sensitive part of his cock a break. Her hand was a nice change from his own, a texture distinctly different from either of his hands, and she does little twists and rubs at little spots that he can never find on his own afterwards.

Rhys is most of the way to being completely erect, panting and making small, desperate keening noises, distressed at the need to remain quiet. Sasha laughs at the pathetic sounds, kissing him soundly before drawing back and pulling him down to her level, kissing up his neck so as to whisper in his ear;

"Any time you wanna make this a mutual thing is fine by me."

He's distracted by too many things. Despite her confidence, her tone was breathy as she'd whispered to him, as if just jacking him off was getting her hot and bothered. His head was swimming, the blood it needed to function at peak being shunted south instead. And her hand is still moving, frustratingly slow and then ecstatically fast and then slow once again. It's her right hand nestled around his cock, so it's only natural that he use his own right hand to push down her pants and her underwear until he can wiggle his fingers between her thighs and up to her vulva.

He doesn't really think, as the nodes in his brain connect to his robotic implants and his metal hand touches her skin and his fingertips push through her pubic hair, running through it as he pushes down to places that will have her panting and squirming like she's making him. She jumps a little, as the touch. The prosthetic isn't cold like metal generally would be - Hyperion prosthetics are better than that. It has a small current that regulates the temperature of the limb, making sure it doesn't deviate too far from the rest of the body's ambient temperature. But the feel of metal is still a shock of a difference when one is expecting the touch of flesh. Rhys barely notices her little jump, concentrating on rubbing his knuckles against her clit as he moved his finger down to rub circles just above both her openings, hoping this little move would work just as well this time as it did last time.

At first, he doesn't notice as the feeling fades from his arm, as his electrical nerves start to malfunction and stop transmitting properly to his brain. He can still feel everything - the beat of her pulse and the slip of her natural lube and how she clenches whenever she gasps in his ear. He knows on some level where each part of her is but when he's not looking he knows he couldn't usually point out exactly where his hands were on a diagram. It's an art, not a science, after all.

It takes a long long time for him to realise that it's not his thoughts his prosthetic is responding to. His metal fingers are moving firm and fast and they're not letting up and he thinks;

_I'll slow it down down, I'll press firm and insistent but I'll give her a bit of a rest._

And his hand just keeps pushing two fingers in and out of her pussy, flicking up just slightly and making her groan in her throat until she presses her face into his jacket and **bites** just to keep herself from moaning loud enough for all of their companions to hear. Which was when he realised that he wasn't in control of his hand, he wasn't the one making her moan like that and that he should **really stop** but he **can't** , he can't do anything but watch, and - _oh god_ \- her hand just tightens around the glans of his cock and he can feels his balls tightening and he can feel himself cumming and now he can feel her shuddering against him, and orgasm coming over him and _oh god that was so, so **wrong**_.

Handsome Jack appears to him the next day, after breakfast, when he's outside and had just finished relieving himself. Rhys tries not to talk to him, tries to ignore him, but Jack has this way of always baiting a rise out of him. They skirt around the topic of what happened with Sasha the day before. They both know what happened but both have their reasons for keeping quiet on the subject. Rhys, for his part, doesn't want to feel the guilt for letting it go as far as it did. Nor does he want to think about how satisfied Sasha looked after the act. He feels like twice the failure and that is a feeling he detests and he rationalises that he doesn't need to talk about it. It will never happen again, after all, he'll make doubly sure to always use his biological hand.

Of course even the best layed plans go awry and Rhys does not have a perchance for the 'best' of layed plans.

It happens again, and again, and again. It happens by accident. He forgets or it's too awkward or she's sitting on his right hand side and is literally asking for it and how can he so no to this incredibly attractive woman who's decided that he's worth her time?

And then one day they're laying down together, kissing passionately and grabbing at each other, inching their hands under the folds and clasps of each other's clothes. He reaches his left hand down, intent on starting their preferred sexual activity and she pushes his hand away. He puts it back on her hip, assuming she just wants to keep doing what they're doing instead of moving on to something else. But she snorts in his face and breaks off their kiss to mumble at him;

"No. I want you- use your other hand?"

Rhys stiffens, an unpleasant shock straightening his spine, but he forceably relaxes a second later and asks her with a nervous laugh;

"What? Why?"

"I'm just in the mood for it."

They both pull back a little, putting enough room for words between their faces as they switch to talking rather than kissing.

"I don't know what it is but you're kinda different with your hands. And I, uh heh..." she trails off, almost sounding embarrassed at how close she came to describing what it felt like when he used his fingers on her.

"But you said you liked my left hand - you like how it's soft and slow and, uh, and tender." his words are tinted with a defensive tone.

She doesn't know but he's arguing that his technique is better than Handsome Jack's. She doesn't know because he has told her. Despite all the repeat offences, Rhys still hasn't told her about how it's always Jack who's in control of his right arm. Not all the time, but always when they're like this. When the sex makes him loose his mind just an inch (and she always makes him loose his mind just and inch) and Jack swoops in and takes a mile. He keeps telling himself that the last time was the last time and that it will never happen again. He repeats those words the next time it happens, and the next.

He tells himself that it's more trouble than it's worth. It would just make her feel bad - make her feel unclean and wrong, to have shared that side of herself with Jack of all people. The more times it happens the more he feels he can't tell her. The AI in his head repeats this misgivings back at him - every time Rhys thinks he's built up the courage to tell her, Jack flickers into vision and says something like;

_What, kid, you're gonna tell her about how last time it was me? And you think she won't start to wonder about all the other times? That she won't come back and ask a bunch of pesky questions like 'Why didn't you tell me earlier?' and 'You were lying to me for so long?' and 'I think we should break up'._

Rhys knows it's wrong and he knows he should tell her but at the same time Handsome Jack has this way of twisting things so that the most logical route is whatever Jack wants to happen. He knows - he knows in his heart - that the best thing is to just tell her. To confess everything. But when Jack buzzes into vision, he forgets. Because Jack reminds him of their plans, of what their alliance is going to make Rhys into. Jack reminds him of how women can be and how unforgiving friends are. He reminds Rhys that if he breathes a single word, then all his new friends will turn on him. That even Vaughn who also works for Hyperion would turn on him. That Fiona would somehow steal Gortys out from under him and drive everyone away. That Sasha would hate his guts and would turncoat on their relationship just like she did to August.

Logically, this is all just hysteria. But Jack says it so plainly and so matter-of-fact that it sounds like the reasonable truth.

If he told Sasha that his robotic arm was being controlled by an AI of Handsome Jack he would also have to explain how he's been seeing Handsome Jack ever since they picked up the first two pieces of the Gortys project. And then how he lied to everyone. And then how he trusted Jack over Sasha's own sister. And then how he lied about **that**. And then how he agreed to ally with Jack. And then how he didn't tell anyone about that either.

Rhys has told lie upon lie upon lie and that was in-between all the times he was lying by omission. His dealings with Jack has become a carefully stacked house of cards and Jack dallying with his girlfriend without anyone's permission is just another carefully stacked card. If he removes it the whole thing is going to come tumbling down around his ears.

And he should do it. He should let the castle of cards fall to ruin but he is, ultimately, a coward. Agreeing to Jack's deal was the most daring thing he's ever done and it's the only daring thing he hasn't regretted a little inside. Until Jack pulled this stunt, that is.

"I do! I, I mean I do like that, too." Sasha responds at his defence but she says it hesitantly. She does seem to genuinely like it when he uses his flesh-and-blood hand but that doesn't mean she doesn't enjoy his robotic hand - Jack's hand - even more than that.

A little weakly, she finishes; "I'm just... in the mood for your robotic hand."

Rhys doesn't know how to respond, Sasha doesn't know why he's hesitating and the sexy atmosphere is slowly evaporating around them. They lay beside each other until Sasha trails one hand up his - Jack's - arm and then walks two fingers down the limb. She's pretending to be bashful, trying to be seductive and in a sweet, little voice she playfully asks Rhys;

"Can come out to play, tonight? I've got somewhere safe he can rest his fingers - I just can't promise he'll stay dry."

Her face - every feature including her expression - is impossibly sexy. Rhys would be bursting with love all over again if Handsome-fucking-Jack wasn't laughing behind his ear saying;

_Well hey - she's asking for it! Move over, Rhys-ey boy - yet another lady wants the Handsome Jack experience. Hey, stick around, maybe you'll learn something!_

And then dissolving into laughter. She's still looking up at him, her full lips pouting, her eyes with a mischievous hint of promise. He's still whispering how she wants him and how Rhys should just step aside and give her what she wants and Rhys...

Rhys caves.

He smiles an unsteady smile. A smile that she flags as Something is wrong but that she doesn't know how to address. He doesn't fight when Jack grabs the inside of her thigh and pushes her legs apart. He even moves the rest of his body, bringing his biological arm up to her shoulder so that he can lean over her. He lets Jack pull her underwear down to her thighs in two rough tugs that leave red scrapes down her thighs. He lets Jack be the one to finger her.

Rhys watches, trying not to be too detached from the proceedings. Sasha leans up to kiss him as Jack moves their hand to cup her vulva and then to press their palm against it, putting steady but dull pressure on her. Rhys kisses her back, trying to match her passion but heavily distracted by fear of his deception and fear of what Jack will do now that he has what he's calling 'permission'. She gasps, her eyes suddenly open, as Jack thrusts two fingers up inside of her long before Rhys ever would have. She's wet but she's only just starting to be wet. It's enough that Jack has no problem pushing his fingers inside but there's not enough lube that she's dripping and that when Rhys would've timed it, to make sure it didn't hurt and to make sure she was ready.

But Jack's premature entrance made her gasp with raw pleasure and he can feel their two fingers rubbing up against the walls of her vagina even as their hand moves their fingers in and out of her. It takes three, maybe four, thrusts before Sasha's arching her back, pushing herself up off of the ground and moaning with abandon into the wild Pandoran sky. It takes Rhys a few seconds to figure out that Jack just found her g-spot in no time. This is hardly the first time Jack's done this with Sasha and he doesn't doubt that Jack's had sex countless more times than he himself has. But it's still a little shocking. Rhys has been trying and he still can't find that sweet spot inside of her every time. He's gotten better the more practice they put in but he's just not that good at finding the right place.

It's been barely a minute and Jack's already rubbing a short back-and-forth motion over her g-spot and making her moan and arch and pant and look up at Rhys with the most unseeing look, like the pleasure has driven her out of her mind. Rhys suspects he could make her cum in ten minutes flat, but Jack drags it out.

For about half an hour, Rhys feels like the ultimate third wheel as this homicidal, psychopathic AI pleasures his girlfriend. Jack keeps it fresh, rubbing up against the walls of her vagina with his thumb pressing against the glans of her clit and then switching to thrusting harsh and fast in and out of just her entrance and then moving out to press hard, firm finger tips around the folds of her labia, pulling at them, pinching them in a way that Rhys thinks must be painful but Sasha just whimpers and squirms at.

He watches at Jack settles into one rhythm, obviously settling there because Sasha is grabbing at his back and panting hard and muttering things like;

"Oh god."

Or;

"Oooh **Rhys**..."

Or just a simple;

"Fuck!"

And then she frantically clutches at him and Rhys watches as Jack brings her over the precipice of orgasm.

Sasha eventually lowers herself back down the the ground under them, still panting heavily, her legs languidly open, looking at him like he had shown her the stars from the vantage of space. She grins up at him, then wiggles her pelvis invitingly.

And to his terror, he feels Jack press the palm of his hand up against her again.

To his horror, he sees her eyes light up.

It's still a deception, he knows that, but he can trick himself into feeling a tiny bit better if he asks her;

"You want.. him.. again?"

His voice is quiet and hesitant but he can see how easy it is for her to take it as being breathing seductive. She blinks slowly at him, her lips tugging into a pleased and anticipatory grin, and she nods.

Jack twirls his finger around her inner labia just once, then pauses to let the tip barely brush her skin before he twists his wrist and sinks his finger up into her. From her moan-laugh Rhys knows he's rubbed up against her sweet spot again straight away. How does he do that? Has he got it down to a science? A fine art? ...Could he ask Jack? Does their alliance extend to sex life tips to use with his girlfriend?

Rhys has this sinking feeling. He especially wished he wasn't as hard as he was - not that he was up at full mast or anything, but he is noticeably firm and it feels like a betrayal. Like what he's doing isn't a betrayal already. He wishes he was soft so that Sasha might notice on her own that something is going very wrong. But he is turned on - he's attracted to Sasha and she's having such an incredibly good time so of course he's turned on. She doesn't know that anything is wrong so she's just enjoying herself.

She even has a hand gently palming the front of his pants, curving at the outline of his penis. She not stroking with intent, the prosthetic fingers have her too distracted for any purposeful intent.

Jack has her really wriggling now. She's trying to stay still so that she doesn't accidentally change his angle, but she's clearly having a difficult time of it. He's pressing his fingers deep up inside her, there seems to be some second, deeper spot that has her gasping like when he rubs over her g-spot. Whatever this other spot is, it's making her not just drip but practically pour with her natural lube. It doesn't take long for Jack to take advantage of this and press a third finger in, and then press in a fourth finger. His hand only fits up to just before his knuckles - any further and Sasha scrunches her face up in the start of distress and Rhys tries to fire off as many 'warning' or 'do not' neurons in Jack's direction as he can.

He switches back to just two robotic fingers, his thumbs pressing down on her clit in tandem with both fingers pushing in and out. Sometimes he swirls them around her inner walls and Sasha cries out in a playful sort of annoyance. She likes the teasing but she hates the delay on her gratification. Then of course she's panting, too breathless to speak and she clutches around his back to hold on tight to Rhys. Only his biological arm is holding him up and he drops a little with her frantically added weight but she barely seems to notice. His crouch almost automatically presses down on Jack's hand as he and Sasha come closer together and he hates that the friction isn't all that unpleasant.

Sasha spasms and then gasps and she cums in Jack's hand.

And Jack slips his entire god damn fist inside of her pussy.

He doesn't do it straight away. He slows his ministrations a little, rubbing her with a little more care as she rides the crest of her orgasm. But just when her panting breath begins to regulate and just when Rhys thinks it's all over, Jack speeds up and a sound catches in Sasha's throat and **then** Jack slips his entire fist inside of her.

Rhys can feel the nerves in his prosthetic, even if he can't control it. He knows that it's not like the AI is actually fisting her. Or at the very least he's reasonably certain that fisting doesn't extend to this. Jack's made their hand into a conicular shape - all their fingertips have come together to a point. Even his knuckles have moved so that they're not completely straight. His hand has been made as skinny as it can be. But it is still someone's entire fist inside of his girlfriend and he thinks Sasha doesn't truly notice? She obvious knows there's a lot of fingers inside of her but he's not sure she can tell how many except that it's more than three.

Rhys tried to use three fingers to pleasure her once. It worked, for a little bit, but it was cramped and she had reflexively squeezed down on him and he thought he almost broke a finger so he'd settled on just using two.

Jack had used not just three but **four** fingers and now a thumb and all his knuckles as well. He wasn't even slowing. He wasn't going quite as fast as he sometimes did with two fingers but Jack was going faster than Rhys would considering he was using an entire hand. Rhys was pretty sure that the crew back at the caravan could hear how Sasha was moaning and groaning and occasionally managing to wrench a passionate;

"Yes!" Out of her throat.

She still had a hand clamped onto the back of his shirt and her hips her grinding down onto Jack's hand, as if he could push deeper into her if she just helped out. Her movements where frantic and a little desperate and her breath was humid against his neck and cheek. He could feel the unyielding metal as her entire canal squeezed down on the limb and he felt as much as he heard her moan when the metal failed to give and just kept on pushing against her constricted walls. She kept herself tense and tight, the pressure lessening only for a few seconds as she caught her breath.

Eventually the pressure she was pushing onto his prosthetic released and she keened his name out into the heaven's above and she shuddered from her groin to her head, her face contorting into unflattering expressions, and she came for the third time tonight.

Rhy's Echo Clock confirmed that it had been two hours or more since they'd started all of this. A minimum of two hours of Handsome Jack giving Sasha what appeared to be the time of her life.

She looked up at him with a gorgeous smile on her lips. Rhys tried to smile back, but felt his gaze slip away from her frank and open sight.

"That was so incredible, Rhys."

Still looking at her ear, he fumbled for an appropriate response.

"Yeah, thanks."

She barked a laugh before curling up the hand that had been crinkling his shirt and giving him a solid thump on his back. He puffed out an;

"Oof!"

And lost his balance, falling on top of her. Sasha continued chuckling in a low tone, speaking through her amusement to scold him;

" 'Thanks'? Don't say 'Thanks', you jackass! Tell me something sappy and romantic! Like how you loved it too or whatever."

"Uh, I loved it too?"

"Pfft, well it doesn't count now, does it."

He gave her a sheepish look before settling down to lay beside her.

"It's okay," she kept going, "I should know better than to expect tactful pillow talk from you."

He tries to defend himself, both of them laughing at his stammered words and the night goes on like it always does. He tries to forget about Handsome Jack for a moment, his brain buddy fails to let him and Sasha remains a sweet spot of salvation away from it all.

He puts the problem out of his mind and pretends that makes his problems disappear.

**Author's Note:**

> Sasha is going to regret everything in the morning, or even just a few minutes from now, trust me.  
> It's good to be writing porn again and it's fun to be writing M/F porn. And just like with all of my porn, I was unsure on how to end it.
> 
> I wish this was longer and more varied but fingering is 1. Less complex than you think and 2. Very odd to put into words.


End file.
